


Home is Strange

by MrRhapsodist



Category: Gone Home, Life Is Strange
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crossover, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Post-Canon, Road Trips, Romance, riot grrl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrRhapsodist/pseuds/MrRhapsodist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On their way to LA, Max and Chloe run into Sam and Lonnie from Gone Home. In their time together, Chloe starts to question Max’s decision to sacrifice a town for her survival, putting their trip and their bond in jeopardy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everything Old is New Again

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine my surprise that no one had done a _Life is Strange/Gone Home_ crossover yet. I hope I did both stories justice with my own.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Chloe finally make a road trip to LA. On the way, they meet another couple with a similar story of leaving Oregon behind.

**One: Everything Old is New Again**

Somewhere on the Pacific coast, Chloe Price’s rickety truck raced along the highway. It chased after the setting sun, caught up in its intense orange glow just like the rippling sea beyond was. Outside the truck was a comfortable silence.

Inside the truck, Chloe suffered through another one of Max’s twee acoustic guitar CDs on the stereo.

“Tell me we’re done with Syd Matters,” Chloe groaned. She kept one hand raised to shield herself from the sun’s glare. “Pretty please?”

“Hey, it’s only one more track. It’s not gonna kill you.”

“You don’t know that. If I fall asleep at the wheel, and we crash? That’s on you.”

“We’ll thrash to some real indie tunes on the next disc.”

“You promise?”

Max Caulfield shrugged, not even looking up from the digital camera in her lap. She hadn’t stop tinkering with it or snapping photos all the way down from Seattle. In her red flannel shirt and bullet necklace, she looked like Chloe and Rachel Amber’s misshapen love child. But that was the point, in a sense. This whole road trip was one big tribute to Rachel’s memory. To her dreams. To the trips she would never take thanks to those vicious bastards Nathan and Jefferson.

Chloe tightened her grip on the wheel. No more distractions. She had Max now. What was left of Arcadia Bay was far behind them. The storm had taken Joyce, Warren, and so many others. Whatever lay ahead wouldn’t take her Max or her new wonderful family in Seattle. She swore to Rachel in heaven that they’d do things right this time.

No more rewinds. No more photo-jumping. They could only move forward.

The next track came up, and true to Max’s word, it was still goddamn Syd Matters. Thankfully, the following song was an Arctic Monkeys ballad. Max winked the second it came on. Chloe grinned and leaned back in her seat. Ahead, the road was awash in a fading golden light, with tiny twinkling lights on the horizon. Another stopover on their way to the big city, just as Max had planned.

She still couldn’t believe they were actually doing this. Chloe kept waiting for the moment to end with her waking up alone, miserable, and stuck in Arcadia Bay.

Her eyes fell on a passing silver Prius, and above it, a faded highway sign on a pole. Only a hundred more miles until they hit the outskirts of LA. Chloe mentioned it to Max as soon as she saw it.

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it to the Holiday Inn,” Max answered around a tiny yawn. She lowered the camera to her lap. “Think we should crash here for the night?”

“You read my mind, sistah.”

With a jerk of the wheel that made her girlfriend yelp, Chloe sent the truck skidding over to the next lane. That silver Prius honked and squealed on its brakes as her old truck cut it off at the pass. Her timing couldn’t have been better. They hit the nearest off-ramp with only seconds to spare. And, Chloe was pleased to note, their arrival at the small town coincided with the last hard-hitting notes of an Arctic Monkeys song.

* * *

With no objection from Chloe, Max chose a nearby Denny’s for dinner. But Chloe still had to quip, “Nobody chooses Denny’s, Maximus. You just end up there.”

Max was resistant to Chloe’s attempts to play footsie under the table. Even so, she couldn’t help but grin the whole time she was giving the waitress their order. It was nice seeing Max smile again. Chloe remembered how, in the days and weeks after the storm, they hadn’t smiled much. They’d cried. They’d hugged. On the way to Seattle, they’d shared their first no-holds-barred kiss in an empty parking lot at night. It had taken a long talk with Max’s parents and the suggestion of a trip together to bring out the smiles in each other.

Besides, they’d already applied to Bay City College for the fall semester. Chloe was determined to have one last crazy summer vacation before then.

She dug into her gorgeous hamburger and steak fries the moment they arrived. Chloe didn’t even look up when she heard Max giggle. Let the adorable hippie enjoy her club sandwich. At least she understood not to get between Chloe and a hot meal. Especially when they were enjoying said meal on Ryan and Vanessa Caulfield’s dime.

“Oh my gosh,” Max whispered. She stared at something behind her partner.

“Whassit?” said Chloe, her mouth full. She swallowed and glanced over her shoulder.

“No, no, don’t look!” Max waved her down. “A little more casual, please?”

Chloe frowned at her. “Max, I am the goddamn _definition_ of casual. I’m the Queen of Laidback Punkers the whole world over.” Having made her point, she stole another peek at the other side of the restaurant. “So what am I looking for?”

“Her. That woman in the corner by the door. You see?”

All Chloe saw was some middle-aged blonde in a denim jacket. True, she had a leather skirt and some killer leggings to complete the ensemble, but nothing else about her struck her as noteworthy. The woman sat in her own booth, sipping coffee as she scribbled down something in a notebook. Totally minding her own business. Chloe had seen dozens like her back at the Two Whales Diner, and the less she thought about losing Joyce, the better.

“You might wanna explain,” she told Max.

“That’s Samantha Greenbriar!” Max replied, grabbing onto Chloe’s hand. “She’s this author, and she’s amazing, and...” She didn’t even finish. Enchantment sparkled in her small brown eyes. Max bounded out of her seat, nearly yanking Chloe’s arm out of its socket. “Come on, we gotta say hi.”

“Ugh, seriously?” Chloe yanked her tiny soulmate back a step. “We just got our food.”

“It’ll still be there. Come on!”

“Why did I fall in love with such a dork?” Chloe wondered out loud, but she allowed Max to drag her away.

When they reached the other woman’s table, Max was positively bouncing for joy. Chloe hadn’t seen her so excited since they were pre-teens hunting for buried treasure near the old lighthouse. To her credit, as they approached and Max cleared her throat, the older woman looked up from her coffee with a smile.

“Hi,” she began, “can I help you?”

“Hi, sorry to bother you, but, um...” Max rocked back on her heels. She squeezed Chloe’s already-sore hand. “I just, I have to ask. Are you Samantha Greenbriar?”

“That depends.” The stranger’s eyes narrowed. “Are you with the cops?”

Max paled. Chloe snorted and reached over to flick her friend on the cheek. “You’ll have to forgive her,” she said. “Max can be an adorable little snowflake sometimes.”

That got the other woman to laugh. She offered her hand. “Hey, that’s okay. We don’t get much snow this close to the beach. Nice to meet you, Max. You can call me Sam.”

Max shook her hand, still a little dumbfounded. Then, at a gentle prod from Chloe, she snapped back into reality and blushed. “Nice to meet you, too, Sam. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to say that I’m a really big fan of the Captain Allegra novels.”

Sam beamed at her. “Well, thank you. I only wish my publisher could hear you say that, or I’d be writing more.”

“Um, hey,” Chloe added, leaning past Max to offer her hand. “Chloe Price, Max’s BFF and live-in girlfriend. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Now what’s this about a book series?”

“Chloe, you seriously don’t know?” Max waved at the author. “She wrote the _Captain Allegra Adventures_! Six whole books about pirates! How have you not heard about them?”

Chloe shrugged. “What can I say? I never was much of a reader.”

Throughout the exchange, Sam watched with quiet amusement. She took one last sip of coffee before she set it down. Closing her notebook, she waved them to the other side of the booth. “I’m actually waiting for someone, but I’ve got time for an adoring fan.” Turning to Chloe, she winked. “And for possible new readers.”

“We’ll see about that,” Chloe replied, but her heart wasn’t in the quip.

As she sat down beside Max, she found herself growing intrigued. This Samantha Greenbriar had an air of mystery about her. Almost like being back in Rachel’s presence. Chloe got the impression that the fair Miss Amber and this author would have gotten along famously, no pun intended.

Max proceeded to bend the poor woman’s ear over these novels. Chloe sat through an endless flurry of questions and praise from her girlfriend, all while willing herself not to cast a forlorn glance at their booth across the restaurant. Her poor burger wasn’t going to finish itself, after all. Chloe couldn’t care less about whatever gibberish Max was spouting about the storm and the deserted islands in Book Two, the buried treasure in Book Three, or some gender-switched First Mate in Book Five.

Okay, maybe her ears perked up at that last tidbit, but still. Who gushed like this?

Just as Chloe was contemplating a mad dash back to her meal, Sam’s phone buzzed from inside her purse. She grabbed her phone and smiled at what she saw on the screen. “There you are.”

Max exchanged a nervous look with Chloe. Then she rubbed at the back of her neck. One of her many adorable traits. “Um, we should probably get going—”

“No, no, it’s all right.” Sam was already turning around, wearing the biggest smile. “It’s just my girlfriend.”

Chloe’s brows shot up, disappearing under the brim of her beanie. She hadn’t expected that. A children’s author with an eye for the ladies? But when she saw a woman around Sam’s age enter the Denny’s and march over to them, she understood.

Tall, narrow-waisted, and sporting a hairdo of faded red dye, Sam’s girlfriend looked too cool for the second-rate restaurant. In contrast to Sam’s suburban mom outfit, this valkyrie dressed herself in a camo jacket and acid-washed jeans, complete with a studded metal bracelet on each wrist. The t-shirt under her jacket declared _**I’m Just Your Problem**_ to the rest of the world. She didn’t so much walk as saunter over to their booth. With her shoulders squared back, the lady had the air of a four-star general inspecting the troops.

She looked like the kind of woman who could’ve kicked David’s ass and _won_.

Chloe had to cling to Max’s hand under the table. Otherwise, she’d have thrown herself at the woman’s feet and begged to become her pupil.

“More adoring fans?” the newcomer asked with a wink. “I can relate. Sam is too much to resist.”

“Stop.” Sam scooted over, letting her companion slide in beside her. She didn’t so much as blush when the other woman leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. As she swung back toward Max and Chloe, her eyes lit up. “Let me catch you up. Max and Chloe, this is Yolanda.”

“I hate that name. Call me Lonnie, and put ’er there.”

Lonnie extended her hand over the table, catching both Max and Chloe in a death grip. Chloe tried not to wince under the pressure. Had to play it cool, even if she felt totally inadequate compared to this older vixen.

Something about her seemed familiar, though. Chloe couldn’t put her finger on it.

Evidently, she couldn’t hide her thoughts. Lonnie glanced askew at Chloe. “Something on your mind, kiddo?”

“Maybe.” Ignoring Max’s pull on her arm, Chloe leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You ever do any partying up in Newberg?”

“Oregon?” Lonnie chuckled and shook her head. “Ahh, geez, that takes me back. Yeah, yeah, I’ve been. I, uh, did some backup singer work up north a few years back. Might’ve been Newberg. This was this tour I did with this act from Eugene called—”

“Razor Brigade!” Chloe smacked her palms down on the table. “I _knew_ I saw you there! You guys _owned_ that stage!”

Max leaned forward, casting an apologetic smile at the older couple. Then she turned a perplexed frown at her girlfriend. “Uh, care to fill me in?”

“It’s a thrasher concert Rachel and I got tickets for way back when. Razor Brigade was the main act, and they were majorly cool. Like, Max, you don’t even know. We all thought that Dive Bomber Dames were rocking it hard, but then these girls come on and just... they just blew the _roof_ off that hall...”

Even now, she could picture it. She saw Lonnie, a few years younger and washed out by stage lighting, but still kicking ass with her punk attire and her soulful voice. Beside her, Rachel Amber had danced and thrashed as hard as Chloe had. Two bodies pressed against each other in a sea of sweat, beer, weed, and screams. They’d locked hands together, never once letting go throughout the entire night. From start to finish, that concert had been magical. And it had been one of the last few good memories that Chloe had of Rachel before she’d disappeared.

 _For the love of God, Price_ , Chloe told herself, _do not have a meltdown in front of this awesome chick._

But Lonnie didn’t even mind. She teased Sam with a grin before turning back to the two younger girls. “Well, well, well. Between Sam’s books and my music, you’ve got impeccable taste. So what say we ditch this dead-end Denny’s and continue this chat back at our place?”

“Uhh...” Chloe cast a desperate glance at Max. _I’m drowning. Save me Caulfield!_

Max squeezed her hands together. “That’s really too kind. Really, we wouldn’t want to impose. And we’re only staying for the night. Chloe, you know, we said we’d get that motel room—”

“Or you could crash at our place.”

It wasn’t the suggestion that threw off Chloe. It was that it had come from Sam.

Still, the author favored her young guests with a serviceable smile that Joyce would have worn. “Hey, it’s no problem. If you girls don’t mind sharing a futon, that is.”

Lonnie chuckled. “Wow. Now that takes me back, Sam. Remember our first night?”

“Stop it, you. What do you say, girls?”

Max and Chloe exchanged glances. Then, after giving her girlfriend’s hand a squeeze, Chloe looked over at the other couple.

“Is it far from here?”


	2. What We Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending the night at Sam and Lonnie's place, Max and Chloe hear a story about two kids in the Nineties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's shorter, but I hope it still packs a punch. Feel free to let me know in the comments below.

**Two: What We Left Behind**

Sam and Lonnie had an apartment six blocks south of the highway, just far enough that Max could no longer hear the endless drone of trucks and big-rigs outdoors. Their abode was cozy, split between bland modern kitchenware and electronics, and old-fashioned furniture. Photographs and framed memorabilia lined the walls, some of them dating back to the early Nineties. They told a story when viewed together.

Max lay on the futon in the living room, her eyes wandering over the photos. She loved the quality she saw. Tasteful black and white snapshots of hands clasped together, of someone’s eye, of different flowers bundled together in a vase. She tried not to think about Diane Arbus—or her so-called fan Mark Jefferson. She preferred to consider the romance that the pictures showcased. So pure was their love, as sharp and in focus as the images themselves.

A light groan from beside Max caught her attention. Chloe’s hand gave her a pat on the hip. “Mmph. Maaax? C’mon, go to sleep.”

Smiling, Max reached for the hand on her hip. “I will. Gimme a minute.”

Chloe’s response was a faint grumble. Max squeezed her hand back.

Meanwhile, her eyes traced over posters for half a dozen riot grrrl bands from Portland to Seattle. Two of those posters flanked a smaller memento: a framed royalty check dated for May of 2004. The same year that the first _Captain Allegra_ book came out, as Max recalled. Beyond those were other collectibles. Indie musician autographs. A row of vintage Beanie Babies, leaning against each other like sad, abandoned children. A Pride flag folded into a triangle and mounted by the door. Hanging from a nail, a friendship necklace, broken and rejoined in the middle, emblazoned with the initials _S_ and _L._

Max was no stranger to being a snoop. In other timelines, it had saved her life. People surrounded themselves with possessions that said more about them than they ever realized. Here, in the dark, she read a story about two women who’d built a life together. They’d lived and laughed through the years. Lost friends, made new ones, and built careers. Max and Chloe were living in a different era of LGBT rights than their hostesses had known.

How long, she wondered, had they waited to hang up that Pride flag? How long before they could hold hands in public?

Giving her girlfriend’s hand another squeeze, Max reassured herself. Someday, they’d have an apartment like this one. And maybe a cat. Or a dog, if Chloe insisted. Those thoughts fluttered around her head as her eyes drifted shut, and she surrendered to a long night’s rest.

* * *

Sam stared across the kitchen table, both hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. Max held one, too. Her attention, however, fixed itself on the half-eaten breakfast plate in front of her. It wasn’t a Joyce Price home-cooked meal, but who could say no to an offer of fresh eggs and bacon?

It was a shame that Chloe and Lonnie couldn’t join them. One of them was still passed out and snoring on the futon, no matter how many times Max had nudged her. The other was taking a shower after coming back from her early morning jog. It amused Max that, even as groggy as she was, she’d been left behind to enjoy a quiet and slow morning with her equally soft-spoken hostess.

“Hey, if you don’t mind me asking?” Sam leaned over her coffee.

Max glanced up from her meal, pausing to wipe her lips. “Yeah?”

“You and Chloe are, in my humble opinion, quite a cute couple.” When Max started blushing, Sam laughed. “No, really. You are. Opposites attract and all that jazz. I was just curious how you two got together.”

A familiar tingle crawled up Max’s spine. Her nightmares of the Week from Hell and the storm weren’t as bad as they used to be. Even so, something caught in her throat whenever she tried to bring up the subject with anyone other than Chloe. She’d wept as she typed out a long email explaining everything to Kate Marsh, only to delete it before she could hit “Send.”

“We, uh, grew up together,” she told Sam. “Up in Oregon. Ever hear of a town called Arcadia Bay?”

“Yeah, I heard about it once or twice. Lonnie and I... we grew up in Arbor Hill. Never been to the Bay, but it sounded nice there.” Sam frowned. “You guys, uh, didn’t stay there when that storm hit, right?”

Max saw the storm approaching the cliff. She heard the crack of thunder and trees snapping in half all around her and Chloe.

What she said was, “Just missed it.”

“Thank God, right?”

“Yeah...”

When Sam didn’t say anything further, Max took a long sip of her coffee. She broke eye contact, fighting back a wave of nausea that she hadn’t experienced since the day she came back to Arcadia Bay.

 _And now we’ll never go back there,_ she swore.

Meanwhile, Lonnie stuck her head in the kitchen, still toweling off her hair. She had on only a tank top and sweatpants, but her bare arms and shoulders revealed a thick layer of ink, with styles that reminded Max of Chloe’s tattoos. Except that these designs were of dragons, hawks, rainbows, and a medley of other colorful characters. One shoulder blade bore the likeness of Princess Leia holding up a blaster, while the opposite shoulder featured the half-faded face of She-Ra.

“Morning, Geek Squad,” said Lonnie. Slipping past Max, she leaned aside to plant a quick kiss on Sam’s cheek. Then she went straight to the fridge.

“Hey, she’s our guest,” Sam protested. “No need for name-calling.”

Lonnie didn’t even look up from inside the fridge. “I was only talking to _you_ , sweetheart. You want anything else, Max?”

Max waved her down. “No thanks. I’m good, honestly.”

As Lonnie returned with a package of cream cheese and half a toasted bagel, Sam smiled up at her. She held out a chair for her girlfriend. “Max and I were just catching up. She and Chloe are another pair of Oregon transplants.”

Chewing thoughtfully on her bagel, Lonnie regarded Max with a curious gaze. Then she swallowed and shifted her eyes over to Sam.

“You tell her about us?” she asked in a voice dripping with suspicion.

Sam looked back, impassive. “You think I should?”

“It’s different now. We got past the worst of it.”

“Ancient history for some.”

“She’s a big girl. She can handle it.”

Throughout the exchange, it wasn’t lost on Max how Lonnie slipped her arm around her partner’s shoulder. Or how Sam reclined so quickly against her in return. It was such a wholesome, tender moment that Max felt guilty for watching.

Sam’s eyes flickered over to Max. Her fingers tightened around the half-warm coffee mug.

“I can’t imagine what you and Chloe went through when you two... got together. Coming out to your parents, your friends... we know it’s not easy.” Sam’s hand found its way to Lonnie’s open palm, clinging on tight. “Lonnie and I... well, we did something really stupid. Really, really stupid, even though it was worth it.”

Max’s heart sank a little. She doubted their story could compare to her literal nightmare. But being polite, she nodded and took another sip of coffee.

This time, Lonnie spoke up. She blushed and took a quick look at Sam, who smiled. “Yeah, it _was_ stupid,” she insisted, “but I’d do it all over again. See, me and Sam were in high school together. _Total_ sweethearts. I mean, hardcore in love with a capital L—” A sharp elbow prod from Sam ended her elaboration. Lonnie grinned. “Anyhow, we had two big obstacles: Sam’s parents and my ROTC deployment. I had to ship out for Basic Training and, uh, let’s just say Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was still going strong. So me and Sam weren’t going to happen. At all.”

“That’s horrible,” Max commented. “How did you cope?”

“Ha, well, that’s the trick.” Lonnie kept one hand clasped over Sam’s hand and her other arm around her partner’s shoulder. “I didn’t. I got off the bus. Went AWOL. So did Sam, much to her parents’ chagrin.”

“Oh.” Max blinked. Then, as she pictured the two making off like bandits, riding off into the sunset, she got a chill down her spine. That image was all too familiar to her. “So, the price you paid when you left Arbor Hill—”

“Was one pissed-off Army sergeant and a year’s worth of legal paperwork to keep us _both_ busy.” Lonnie mimed putting a gun to  her head. “Turns out contract violation is a big deal.”

“The fact that she was openly gay didn’t help either.” Sam paused, then shrugged. “Well, okay. It _did_ help with the military. With my parents? Not so much.”

“Thank God for your sister, though.”

“Yeah, Katie came and found me.” Sam’s eyes lit up. “Managed to talk down Mom and Dad, even though it took a few months. She’s a real lifesaver.”

Max allowed herself a tiny smile. She didn’t bother to tell her hosts about another Kate that she knew, someone whose life _she’d_ saved once upon a time. Something about the name had its own weird power, she supposed.

“So it all worked out in the end, at least,” Max remarked. She gave the other women a smile. “I mean, look at your lives now.”

Sam smiled back. “It was touch and go for a bit, but we’ve settled down. Figured stuff out. Maybe I did miss a few Christmases and birthdays back home, but I don’t regret it. Not the trip. Not the stuff we, ah, borrowed.” She squeezed her girlfriend’s hand. “And not Lonnie.”

Lonnie grinned. “Bit late to back out now, am I right?”

“You know it.”

Max couldn’t help but grin, too. She admired the ease with which they spoke. They loved each other and they didn’t care who knew it. Someday, that’d be her and Chloe.

Speaking of which—

Turning around in her chair, Max looked up in time to see a silhouette emerge from the living room. Chloe stood in the entrance to the kitchen, already dressed in her jacket and beanie. Her eyes drifted up from the linoleum floor tiles to Max’s face. Max didn’t miss—couldn’t miss—the persistent quiver in her girlfriend’s bottom lip or the ashen tone of her cheeks. When Chloe slid her arms around her own waist and hugged herself, Max’s danger sense went off at full blast.

She was halfway out of her chair when Chloe turned and bolted away.

“Wait!” Max cried.

But all she got in response was a blur out of the room and a slammed door.

Warm hands fell onto Max’s shoulders. When she looked back, Sam stood over her with a gentle frown. Her fingers were still tingling and hot from the coffee she’d been holding.

“It’s okay,” Sam insisted. “You can go after her.” She reached up and brushed back a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Max wanted to tell her everything, all the way back to the incident in the bathroom with Nathan Prescott. But there was no time. Not anymore. Not since the choice she made at the lighthouse.

So she nodded and ran.


	3. Remember the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Chloe sort out their issues on a drive. Back at the apartment, they reach another key decision about their journey.

**Three: Remember the Rain**

A sharp glare assaulted Max the moment she stepped out of the apartment. Shielding her eyes, she used her free hand to guide herself down the outdoor stairs. Hearing Chloe’s anxious trot below made Max step up her pace. She saw nothing but stucco white walls, the Southern California morning glare, and a faint glimpse of tousled blue hair ducking around every corner.

Max wasn’t even breathing hard by the time she reached the parking lot. Three spots away, Chloe was yanking open the door to her truck. She fumbled for her keys as she hopped into the driver’s seat, cursing under her breath.

Before she could turn on the ignition, Max rushed forward and slammed both palms onto the hood of the truck. Chloe’s eyes snapped up.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

When Chloe didn’t react, Max stepped around to the other side of the truck. She opened the door and jumped into the passenger’s seat. Not once did she look Chloe in the eye. That hideous plastic figure mounted on the dashboard was enough to hold her attention.

Chloe waited another moment before she cleared her throat. “Look, I’m sorry I—”

“Just drive.” Max still couldn’t look her in the eye. If she did, she’d never stop the tears from coming. “We... we need to talk, Chlo.”

* * *

They drove just above the local speed limit through the town. Chloe’s truck snaked a path up and down the main boulevard. They took side streets for extra time and got themselves stuck behind freight trucks making a detour from the Interstate. Meanwhile, the sun rose higher and the lunchtime traffic built up around them.

Chloe leaned over her steering wheel at the next red light. She stared at the tourists crossing the intersection without really looking at them. Easier to do that than focus on the storm brewing in the seat next to her.

Who was she kidding? She knew who the real walking disaster was.

“Do you feel like talking?” Max asked. For once, she was looking right at Chloe. Those adorable doe eyes melted her heart every time.

Chloe sighed. “Maybe. Are you gonna make a big deal out of it?”

“Says the girl who made a dramatic exit half an hour ago.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“You keep saying sorry, but you never say why, Chloe.”

“It’s...” Chloe blew out another breath. What she wouldn’t give for a pack of smokes right then. “Look, it’s stupid.”

Max wrapped her hands around her girlfriend’s bicep. “Let me be the judge of that.”

Ahead, the light finally turned green. Chloe tapped her foot on the accelerator. She drove through the intersection. When she caught sight of the needle on the gas gauge, ever creeping closer to “Empty,” she made a right turn into a nearby Chevron station.

Parking beside an open gas pump, she leaned back in her seat. Max was still giving Chloe that gentle concerned expression. She hated that face. Usually, it came up whenever Chloe was pissed, and more often than not, it meant that she was in the wrong.

“Look,” said Chloe, “I... I heard the story. About Sam and Lonnie.” She glanced down at her hands in her lap. “It upset me, okay? Just me being stupid. Again.”

“Chloe—”

“I was _scared,_ Max. Okay?” Chloe flicked her hand against the wheel. She was fighting back a sudden deluge of tears. “What Lonnie did, what Sam did, was fucking courageous. They broke hearts, they turned the world upside down, all because they loved each other. And it... it made me think about us. About what we _did_ , Max. We turned Arcadia Bay to glass and I... I have to wonder if it was worth it.”

Max all but tackled Chloe in a side hug. Chloe tucked her arm around Max’s shoulders and held her head against her chest. She closed her eyes against fresh tears.

God, this was familiar. They’d done this exact pose before. Standing on a cliff, holding onto each other as the world ended before their eyes. Compared to that, Sam and Lonnie running away from home seemed like child’s play.

Then she heard Max whisper, “You are worth it. You are worth Hell, Chloe Price.”

“Don’t be a fucking saint, Max.”

“I’m not. I’ve let people die. I’ve made enemies. But I’ve never stopped caring for you, Chloe. And I never will.”

Max’s voice choked on _I never will_. Chloe couldn’t take it anymore. She hugged Max closer, tilting up her head so she could lean down and kiss her face. Their tears mingled on Max’s cheeks, and that only made the hole in Chloe’s heart bigger.

“I love you, Chloe,” Max insisted. “I let go of you once, and I’m never letting go of you again.”

Now it was Chloe’s turn to let out a sob. “I know, I know.”

“And don’t... don’t forget about Sam and Lonnie. They gave up everything for each other and look how happy they are today. Someday, that... that’ll be us, too.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

“I know it.”

But even as she spoke, Chloe could already see it. There would be a kickass apartment somewhere in Portland, covered in punk rock posters and framed photographs taken by Max herself. There’d be long walks downtown, holding hands without fear. Even longer nights, curled up beneath the sheets. Chloe would be the aging punk chick at every concert, losing the blue highlights in her hair but still thrashing with the best of them. And Max would be on a whirlwind tour of every big city, with her art hanging on the walls of every gallery from San Francisco to Prague.

Sure, they were battle-scarred. So was David, her former step-douche. But even he had found a little happiness with Joyce before the end.

Chloe took another deep breath. She let it out slowly. As Max untangled herself, Chloe sat up and unlocked her door. Thankfully, her tears had dried up. She paused to look back at Max, still sniffling in her seat.

“I’m gonna fill the tank up,” Chloe said. “Want something from the shop?”

Max shook her head.

“I’ll be back soon, I promise.” With a sad smile, Chloe added, “No more running away either. Never again, Maximus.”

Max dabbed at her eyes, but she was smiling, too. “I’ll keep a weather eye out, Captain.”

A warm surge burst through Chloe’s heart. She knew there were gonna be fine.

* * *

Max swam through a half-remembered haze that afternoon. She could recall only glimpses of herself, Chloe, Sam, and Lonnie hanging out in the apartment. Someone had turned on the Hi-Fi, and they all chatted to the background melodies of a late Nineties rock CD. Somewhere, she tasted fresh coffee and a plate of scones that Sam had baked. It didn’t seem real that this sweet homemaker and children’s author could be paired with such an outspoken rebel. But looking at the couple, Max couldn’t imagine either of them with anyone else.

Just like her and Chloe then.

“...So me an’ Rachel hit up this overpass downtown,” Chloe was saying. She took a drag on the cigarette that Lonnie had been kind enough to offer. “And it was lit, I mean _lit_ , down there. It’s like Graffiti Heaven, and there’s kids everywhere moshing and rawking out to, I dunno, some electro knockoff named Cyber or Zone. Whatever. If you wanted to party in Arcadia Bay, you just had to be there.”

“Pretty sick,” Lonnie commented. She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray resting by her bare feet. “You ever get a live show?”

Chloe shook her head. “Wasn’t that kind of place. Just a nightly dance party until whenever the cops felt like showing up.”

“Goddamn pigs.”

“Preach it, sista.”

Max had retreated to an armchair just a little outside the conversation circle. Unlike Sam, she wasn’t too acclimated to secondhand smoke. And given the social anxiety meds she still took, Max wasn’t about to tamper with her biochemistry much. She didn’t mind Chloe’s weed habit, which wasn’t nearly as frequent as it used to be, thank God. This was her way to be comfortable: sitting off to the side, taking it all in. Taking a long snapshot of everything.

She could hardly even look at her camera anymore. Even if it was digital.

Meanwhile, Sam glanced over at Max. “You want anything else, dear?”

Max shook her head. “No, thanks.”

“Don’t mind her.” Chloe leaned back to tickle at Max’s ankle. “She’s a shy little mouse.”

“Hey, who are you calling ‘little’?”

Everyone laughed at that. Max felt some of the pressure ease off in the back of her throat. Chloe always did have a way of loosening her up.

Glancing around the living room, she found herself admiring the same black and white photos on the wall. Pictures of the cute couple, of Pride marches and honeymoon getaways. All very tasteful. Max tried to appreciate the quality for what it was. She tried not to think about Mark Jefferson and how much she’d once studied—even admired—his photography style. She’d hate to vomit all over her hosts’ carpet.

Chloe must have been watching her reaction. She leaned over to nudge Max. “If you want to kick me out so you and Sam can talk shop, be my guest.”

“I’d love that,” Sam replied. “I never get to do much photography these days. I really miss it.”

“I, uh, don’t know.” Max noticed that her left foot was tapping out a beat, and she quickly crossed her legs. “M-maybe some other time.”

“Max?” Chloe frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“I just... I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Geez, I’m so sorry, Max.” Now it was Sam’s turn to frown. She and Lonnie exchanged a look. “I didn’t mean to upset you. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. This a drama-free zone, okay?”

But Max barely heard her. She was too busy staring down at the maelstrom ripping across the Bay. At the two halves of the Polaroid photo she’d torn in half, now flying away into the ferocious gale. At Chloe’s tear-stricken face. Her fate— _their_ fate—sealed forever. Sealed together. Together forever, just like Sam and Lonnie were. Accomplices to a crime. Partners in time, now and forever—

“Max? Max!”

She blinked, and she was back at the apartment. Chloe had her hands planted on Max’s shoulders, shaking her gently. Across the room, Sam and Lonnie stared. Their hands were locked together.

Max could focus on all those hands. They were real. They had weight. She could trust their touch more than she could trust her own brain.

“I’m sorry,” she blubbered. Chloe pulled her into a hug, and Max wept into her shoulder. She ignored their hosts for a moment. She needed to get this out.

 _Get it out,_ a tiny voice whispered in her head. _Get it all out._

She couldn’t do it. How could they believe her? No one could. No one who was sane would get it. You’d have to be crazy to get her story, to have lived it like she did.

No wonder she and Chloe got along so well.

“Max, hey.” Lonnie folded her hands together. “Do you need to go somewhere? Like, for help?”

“No, I’m... I’m okay,” Max replied. She peeked over Chloe’s shoulder. “Sorry to worry you.”

“Honey, we’re more worried about _you._ ” Sam leaned forward. “Please, tell us what’s wrong?”

Max struggled to find the words. There was too much, far too much.

“Max?” Chloe loosened her grip and tilted back to look her girlfriend in the eye. “Just tell them. It’ll be okay.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Chloe bent over and kissed her on the top of her head. “I’ll help you, buttercup.”

Max waited a long moment while she stared into Chloe’s blue eyes. Her heart slowed down from a frantic pace, until she could breathe again. Until she could see everything else in the room, and not another flashback to syringes in the Dark Room.

And then she began.


	4. Stark Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Lonnie process the truths they've learned from their guests. Max gets her chance to perform.

**Four: Stark Light**

Everything was still and quiet later that night. Samantha Greenbriar sat at her kitchen table, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. She didn’t dare to move a muscle or make a sound. All her attention was directed to the unlit living room, where she could make out the faint shape of two youngsters wrapped up in a blanket on a futon. After everything they’d been through that day, they finally knew some peace and quiet, as did Sam.

Out from the darkness, Lonnie emerged. She’d already changed into her sleepwear. She leaned against the entrance to the kitchen and smiled. “How you holding up, babe?”

“Fine, I guess.” Sam lowered her drink. “Can’t sleep either?”

“I tried, but...” Lonnie glanced back at the sleeping girls. Then she shook her head. “God, it’s like, too weird. You couldn’t make that stuff up if you tried.”

Being an author, Sam wanted to disagree. She knew all about turning a child’s fantasy into a series of books that could make some decent sales. You found your genre, your characters, and your plots, and you went from there. But it was different when you sat across from a young woman in your living room, and you saw the horror in her eyes and heard the quaver in her voice. It was different when she told you about time travel, buried bodies, gunshots, abductions, and a world breaking apart.

Once you learned the truth, you couldn’t _un_ learn it.

Sam sighed. Glancing down into her coffee, she stared at her murky reflection for a moment.

“Those poor kids deserve something better,” she remarked. “They deserve each other and a nice place to live.”

“Someplace that’s not Arcadia Bay,” Lonnie replied. “Seriously, to hell with that town. Bunch of psychos...”

“Seattle’s nice. At least they’ve got Max’s parents backing them up.”

“Parents are overrated, babe.”

Sam grinned. “You didn’t feel that way last Christmas.”

“Only because Katie insisted we come.”

“Thank God for Katie.”

Despite her mood, Lonnie shrugged and smiled. “Yeah, okay. She’s great.”

Looking past Lonnie, over to where Max and Chloe slept, Sam wondered if they had anyone looking out for them the way Katie had for her. Max had mentioned that she’d actually had a classmate named Kate Marsh, but she’d been vague about whether or not she’d survived the storm that ravaged the Bay. No wonder she and Chloe clung so hard to each other.

For the first few months, Sam and Lonnie had stood alone, too. They eventually found refuge among other outcasts, from the neighborhoods of Castro Street to the clubs on the Sunset Strip. On their own, they found solace and second chances in their art. Sam had her books, and Lonnie had her underground music. Max and Chloe had each other for now. She didn’t have special powers of her own, but Sam felt like she could almost see their future, just by looking at her own life. Signing up for college courses, finding their own place, fighting to make a name for themselves. Max had her photography, and Chloe had... well, whatever Chloe did best.

Someday, they’d settle down. They’d figure it out together. Sam had faith in their romance.

Meanwhile, Lonnie plopped down in a chair next to Sam. She helped herself to a quick, teasing sip of Sam’s coffee. Then, wiping at her lips, she grinned.

“You know...” Lonnie teased, “we should do something for Max and Chloe. I mean, it’s not gonna fix their lives, but what the hey, right?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Open Mic Night, over at Lori’s.”

“Aww, but that’s _our_ thing.”

“And where does it say we can’t share?”

“I guess.” Once again, Sam’s eyes wandered over to their sleeping guests. “Max _did_ say she could play guitar.”

“Yeah, she did.” Lonnie’s eyes twinkled, which never failed to make Sam a little breathless. “Think she knows any Jose Gonzales?”

* * *

Lori’s Bistro was small, smoky, and poorly lit, with more candles than light bulbs to illuminate the restaurant. Situated near a big on-ramp to the Interstate, it was impossible to not hear massive trucks and family sedans chugging along outside. Yet none of the diners and music lovers inside seemed to care. They munched on local barbecue and turned their eyes to the stage near the back.

Under the spotlight, Max sat on a stool. She held her guitar on her lap, twisting at the keys to tune her instrument one string at a time. Beside her, Lonnie stood. She wore her hair in a sharp ponytail, and her leather jacket was positively gleaming under the lights. She drew everyone’s attention with every gesture, with every tiny bop of her head to Max’s rhythmic tuning.

Close to the stage, Chloe sat at a little table with Samantha. It surprised that Chloe that her companion had dressed up for the evening.

And by dressed up, she meant that the older woman had chosen all-black attire, complete with slick leather boots and a wicked scarf. Chloe was jealous of how good she looked. She made a mental note to visit some LA boutiques and update her wardrobe, stat.

Lonnie tapped the mic on stage, and a hush fell over the barbecue joint. She gave the crowd a smile. Her gaze lingered for half a second on Sam, which made her blush. Chloe gave her a friendly nudge.

“How you all doin’ tonight?” Lonnie asked. When she got a few whoops from the crowd, she chuckled. “All right, all right, all right. If you know this one, don’t be shy. Go ahead and sing along, or whatever.”

When she stepped back, Lonnie took a few deep breaths. Immediately, Max began to play. Chloe watched, mesmerized by her girlfriend’s fingers as they danced over frets and chord progressions without effort. Max didn’t look out at the crowd. She was lost in her little world, trapped in the confines of a delicate indie ballad. Chloe wished that the restaurant didn’t exist. All she wanted was to be back home in Seattle on a rainy night, to have Max playing for her and no one else.

Meanwhile, Lonnie stepped back to the microphone. She tossed her ponytail over one shoulder and began to sing. “ _Don’t you know that I’ll... be around to guide you... Through your weakest moments... to leave them behind you..._ ”

Oh, this song. Chloe had to shake her head and laugh. Of course Max dug something out of her repertoire of twee hipster acoustic love ballads. That girl, God love her, could listen to a track of squirrels chittering and call it music. Chloe had half a mind to recruit Lonnie and drag Max on a tour of the biggest punk bands playing up and down the West Coast. It’d be a long haul, but if it changed Max’s tune—no pun intended—then it’d be worth the cash they dropped.

As the song went on, Chloe realized that Lonnie had stopped letting her eyes drift around the audience. Now she only had eyes for Sam, who wore the biggest, cutest smile ever. It was too goddamn precious for Chloe, though she’d never admit it to Max if asked.

She decided to take a risk and extend her hand across the table. Sam didn’t hesitate. Her hand found Chloe’s in the shadows and squeezed it tight. That gesture said everything.

It said, _I’m glad we met._

It said,  _Aren’t our girlfriends so cool?_

It said, _This was worth all the scars and the heartache, right?_

“ _The streets outside your window... overflooded... People staring... they know you’ve been broken..._ ” Lonnie’s voice went up an octave, matching Max’s change in tempo without any difficulty. “ _Repeatedly reminded by... the looks on their faces... Ignore them tonight and you’ll be alright..._ ”

Chloe’s eyes fluttered shut. Here, she could forget the trip. She could forget Joyce, David, the storm, and the rebuilding. No more second-guessing. No more bitter smoke clouding up the inside of her skull. She was thirteen again and back with her best friend, her one true love.

Maybe Sam felt the same, given her own crazy history. They continued to hold hands throughout the entire set.

“ _We’ll cast some light and you’ll be alright..._ ” And as Lonnie crooned out the final verse, nobody was clapping harder than Chloe.

Max peeked around her new bandmate and waved at her admirers. She looked so happy. Chloe wanted to rush the stage and shower her in kisses.

But she could afford to wait.

They had all the time in the world now.

* * *

Several drinks later, the quartet made their trek back to the apartment. Lonnie, however, yanked Max by the elbow instead of letting her follow the others upstairs. She gave the younger girl a wink and shook a pack of cigarettes at her.

Max giggled. “Uh, much as I like your sense of hospitality, I don’t smoke.”

“S’all good. Mind if I do?”

“Go ahead.”

A red lighter appeared in Lonnie’s hand. She flicked it twice and pressed a fresh cig to the flame. In the cool night air, her every breath was a long trail of smoke that wafted up around the leaves of a nearby palm tree. Lonnie relaxed and lounged against the building wall. After a moment, Max crossed her arms and did the same.

“You were great, by the way,” Lonnie remarked. She slid her gaze over to Max, haloed by the smoke. “I usually hit the stage by myself. It’s been a while since I’ve toured with a band.”

“Are you going to do any tours in the future?”

“Maybe one or two. Razor Brigade will be back on the West Coast next November, and after that Veronica Fatale has me booked for a gig or two in Seattle. You an’ Chloe should come around if you’re still up there.”

Max’s face glowed pink. “I’d like that.”

Lonnie laughed. “Hey, no pressure, though. Much as I’d love to see you girls in action, I’ll understand if you’re busy. You’ve got your own lives to figure out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Shit, Max, it’s not that hard.” Lonnie paused for another drag on her cigarette. She gazed into the haze that came out her mouth when she spoke. “Your twenties are gonna be awesome. But you and Chloe saw some shit up in Arcadia. Same for me an’ Sam up in Arbor Hill. We get it, we really do. And you guys had it _way_ worse than we ever could. So... I mean, take some time to settle in, you know? You don’t have to try to save the world or go back and fix things.”

Max winced. “Yeah, I know.”

“Right. Uh, sorry.”

“It’s cool, Lonnie.” Clutching at her left arm, Max’s disposition went from cynical teen to anxious little girl from zero to sixty. “Y-you’re right, though. It must’ve been scary when you and Sam ran off together.”

In the gloom outside the apartment complex, the only light Lonnie could see was the red embers of her cigarette and the distant halo of light from a street lamp. She stared through the light and up into the ink-black night sky. It had been on a night like this, she remembered. Standing at a pay phone in Salem, clutching her bags to her chest. Weeping “Sam” over and over into the voicemail, begging for her to pick up. Just this one time, please pick up, come on, do it for me...

“It was the hardest thing I ever did,” Lonnie admitted. She smiled down at Max. “It’s like getting your heart broken, but in the best way imaginable. Know what I mean?” Before Max could respond, she dropped her fading cigarette onto the ground and stubbed it out with her boot. “Yeah, you do. You went through Hell for that girl, Max.”

Max said nothing. She, too, stared out at the night sky. Lonnie could only imagine what vivid memories she was reliving.

“Hey,” she added. “I meant what I said, though. Enjoy your twenties. You and Chloe are gonna be fine. You made it here. You stopped that creep from your school. You’re making a life for yourselves.” Lonnie shrugged. “What more do you need?”

Crossing her arms again, Max looked back at her. “Not much else, I guess. I still want to be a photographer. And I’ve no idea what Chloe wants to do.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll figure it out.” Lonnie reached over and slid her arm around Max’s shoulders. “I didn’t know jack shit after I ditched the Army. Turns out I can sing. Chloe’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Devil’s food cake, more like it.”

They laughed, but at least Max was smiling again. Lonnie considered that a personal victory. She led the younger girl upstairs, and when she looked over her face, Lonnie saw traces of that cute little geek she’d dated oh so discreetly back in high school. The same girl for whom she’d trashed lockers, with whom she’d built pillow forts and hunted ghosts in the dead of night. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Never before had that saying rung so true.


	5. Something Borrowed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Chloe say their goodbyes to their lovely hosts. In LA, Chloe comes to terms with an old pain, and Max finds something beautiful on the horizon for the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who followed this story!

**Five: Something Borrowed**

A strong ocean breeze and a clear blue sky greeted Max and Chloe on their last morning in town. They packed up the truck as soon as it was light enough outside. The morning had been a slight headache for Max, having to call the Holiday Inn in LA and explain why they were two days late for their reservation and would it be possible to get an extension—yes, even  _ with _ an extra fifty dollars per night. Still, she couldn’t fret over bureaucratic nonsense with such gorgeous weather ahead of them.

Sam and Lonnie stood together with the two girls in the parking lot. They didn’t need to say much. On the verge of separating, with all the secrets and pain they shared, no one dared.

Max threw herself into Sam’s arms, holding her tight as Sam caressed her lower back. Meanwhile, Chloe and Lonnie shared a fist bump. Then Lonnie surprised Chloe by hauling her in for a bear hug. The shorter punk girl grimaced at first, but when she saw Max’s encouraging smile, she relaxed a little into the embrace.

“You be sure to call or email us if you’re ever down this way again,” Sam told Max. She gave her friend a pat on the shoulder. “We’ll do Lori’s or some other place.”

“I’m more psyched for when you go on tour,” Chloe added. “Razor Brigade, rawk out!”

“We’ll  _ all _ be rockin’ it in Seattle.” Lonnie winked. “Just you watch.”

Max chuckled, though she had to admit the prospect of seeing Lonnie DeSoto in concert was exciting. Almost as big as the trip that she and Chloe had yet to finish.

Without further ado, Chloe hopped into the truck and waited for Max to do the same. With a momentary sputter, the engine rumbled back to life. Max savored the vibration under her feet. She adjusted her side mirror through the open window, getting one last glimpse of Sam and Lonnie as Chloe pulled the truck into reverse. They barely had time for one last wave goodbye before the ancient vehicle cruised out of the lot and back onto the road.

The street led into an artery pumping onto the Interstate, and they were back on their way to LA.

* * *

At a half-full apartment lot, Sam and Lonnie stood side by side in a gentle silence.

Then Sam asked, “Hey, you doing anything later?”

“Not a thing, babe.” Lonnie was already patting her pockets for a cigarette or two. “Why, what’d you have in mind?”

Sam wore a grin that, by Lonnie’s estimation, had been absent for several months now. She’d gotten used to so many faces and expressions from the lovely Samantha, such as the Quiet Homemaker, the Cheering Girlfriend in the Audience, and—ever popular with Lonnie—the Naughty Chick in the Bedroom. But this devious grin, this ever-so-mischievous smile, was a rare find.

It was what she liked to call Sam’s Professional at Work face.

“I’m toying with a crazy idea,” Sam said.

Lonnie clapped her on the shoulder. “Well, you know how I feel about those.”

“I sure do.” Sam cocked her head to the right. “You think the Young Adult lit crowd might be ready for the Adventures of Max and Chloe?”

Lonnie was quiet for a second, just long enough for the words to fully register. Then she barked out a laugh and yanked Sam into a hug. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’d say the world is ready for their story. Call it  _ Allegra the Time Warrior _ and you’ll sell a million copies no problem.”

“Knew you’d like it. Think my agent will?”

“Dunno. Let’s go pay him a visit.”

Sam reached out and locked her fingers with Lonnie’s as they headed back to their apartment. “Took the words right out of my mouth...”

* * *

Even with a straight burn down the Interstate and very few stops along the way, Chloe’s truck finished the final leg of the trip around sunset. Not that Max minded. She’d been enjoying the Razor Brigade playlist that Chloe had been running all day. And the stately buildings of downtown Santa Monica were awash in a fine orange gleam, reflected by the nearby waters of the Pacific. Everything looked just as Max had imagined it.

Right down to having Chloe by her side.

“Think they’ll yell at us for being late?” Chloe had parked her truck in the lot behind the hotel, refusing to let some poor valet try to handle the beast himself. She hopped out and carried her luggage, a mere duffel bag, over her shoulder.

Max grabbed her backpack and rolling suitcase out the back. “I mean, that one girl at the front desk kinda did. And Mom and Dad are probably gonna yell when we get home.”

Chloe grinned. “Screw going home. Let’s run away, Max, and never look back.”

“You wouldn’t last a day out here.”

“Speak for yourself, Little Miss Creampuff.”

“And who’ll be there to talk your way out of a tight spot?”

“I’ve done it before.”

Max shook her head. “Your shouting matches with David and Frank say otherwise.”

For once, Chloe didn’t have a witty response. Looking over her shoulder, Max saw the other girl standing motionless with her duffel bag. Her face was a mask of concern and doubt, causing Max’s heart to drop.

“Chloe, I... I’m sorry.” Letting go of her suitcase, Max reached for her girlfriend’s arm and squeezed her bicep. “We don’t need to go back to those days.”

“It’s not that.” Chloe’s voice came out soft and small, a little hard to hear against the background noise of the parking lot and Santa Monica traffic. “I’m, uh, just getting hung up on something else.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Chloe shook her head. She picked up her duffel bag and nodded for Max to move. “C’mon. The more we hustle, the sooner we can check into our room.”

* * *

Their view from the fifth floor wasn’t the grandest, but they could still watch palm trees swaying in the wind and catch a tiny glimpse of the ocean. Max sat by the open window, getting as many shots as she could of the late-night traffic that refused to stop, even for after the LA dinner hour. She saw tourists and locals of every stripe still mingling on the promenade below. Somewhere nearby, two guys were strumming away hard on acoustic guitars. Max didn’t recognize the melody, and she didn’t care.

Across the room, Chloe had abused every privilege she could find. Having taken a hot shower and changed into a fluffy white bathrobe, she’d insisted on ordering pastrami sandwiches, French fries, and, for dessert, piping hot brownies served with ice cream. When met with the feast, Max had been hard-pressed to object.

Now caught in the grip of a food coma, Chloe lay face down on their bed and flipped through every channel on TV. “Lame... lame... uber-lame...” Her finger on the remote paused. “Ooh, a Joan Jett concert? Don’t mind if I do...”

“You’re so obvious,” Max commented from the window.

Chloe cast back a sidelong glance. “You wanna come here and say that to my face?”

“Don’t think I won’t.”

“Aww, Baby Girl Max is scared.”

“Okay, you asked for it!”

After setting down her camera on the floor, Max leapt across the room. Chloe barely had time to roll out of the way. She rebounded quickly, catching Max a second after she landed on the bed. With a laugh, Chloe wrestled her partner on top. She showed no mercy, tickling poor Max under her arms and behind her neck. Years of growing up together had revealed every weak spot on her best friend’s body, leaving Chloe the undisputed tickle match champion.

“Give up?” Chloe asked, a little out of breath.

Max shook her head as she gasped for air. “Not... on...  your life...!”

But she knew she couldn’t win this little battle. Max yielded and sagged against Chloe, laying her head onto her chest. Chloe got the message and relented. Her arms slid around Max’s waist, and she bent down to kiss her forehead.

“God, when was the last time we did that?” Max asked.

“Too long to remember.” Chloe paused to wipe her brow. “Phew. I’m out of practice.”

Max nodded. Then, she went quiet. Her mind wheeled back onto a moment from earlier in the evening, still fresh in her memory. “Hey, Chloe?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Is it cool if I, uh, ask you about earlier? In the parking lot?”

“Oh. Right, that...” Chloe tilted her head left, pulling her gaze over to the hotel room door. Max couldn’t tell if she was eyeing the Do Not Disturb sign or just lost in thought.

“You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I know. And I’m glad to have you for that.”

“So?”

“It’s about coming here. To LA.” Chloe’s eyes went glassy. “With you.”

Max swallowed. “Go on.”

“I just... I always thought...” Chloe snapped her face back toward Max. She traced a finger along the curve of her girlfriend’s jaw. “I knew I’d make it here someday. I just figured that I’d do it with Rachel.”

“Oh.” Max blinked. “I see.”

“Please don’t be mad, okay?”

“I’m not mad.” When Chloe didn’t respond, Max grabbed her hand. “Chloe, I’m  _ not. _ I miss Rachel, too, and I’ve never even met her. Of course she deserves to be here, too. She’d be a bigger star than either of us.”

Chloe gave her a tiny smile. “There’d be guys and girls tripping over themselves to open doors for her.”

“Exactly.” Max smiled back. “So we’re just going to have to make the most out of this trip ourselves. We’re doing this to honor  _ her, _ remember?”

“Shit, I’d almost forgotten that.” Chloe giggled and squeezed Max close. “See, this is why I need you in my life.”

“Just like Sam needs Lonnie.”

“A-fucking-men.”

They laughed, and Chloe rolled over so that Max could slide off the bed. She scrambled to her feet and made it to the door. Chloe watched from the bed as Max opened the door, slipped the Do Not Disturb sign over the handle outside, and shut the door again. Max grinned and locked it up tight.

When she turned around, her heart was thundering in her chest. Ever since their trip to Seattle, Max had dreamt of being entirely free with Chloe. Something she couldn’t do with her parents’ bedroom only a few doors away.

But none of that mattered in a hotel.

Chloe seemed to track her line of thinking. She loosened the belt around her bathrobe, letting the garment slip away.

“Max, hit the lights,” she murmured.

Max did just that.

A moment later, they were in each other’s arms, and their lips met in feverish desire.

* * *

Chloe was giddy the next morning, and she knew exactly why.

From the shower that she and Max shared to the breakfast they grabbed in the cafe downstairs, everything had a brand-new aura about it. Chloe hadn’t been this happy in a long time. Not for months.

Years, even.

Max had suggested a trip to the beach, just for a casual walk. Chloe agreed, and within minutes, they were strolling down Third Street. It took getting lost a few times before they found a clear path to the shoreline. But the effort was worth it.

“God, it’s gorgeous today,” Max remarked. She’d finally ditched her hoodie and blue jeans for a graphic t-shirt and cargo shorts. Of course she still looked dorky, but at least she was Chloe’s dork.

“Not as pretty as you,” Chloe teased.

Max scoffed and retaliated with a flick to the shoulder. “You’d better watch it with that kind of talk.”

“Yeah? What are ya gonna do about it?”

A familiar twinkle came to Max’s eyes. “I just might ask you to marry me.”

Chloe laughed, but her heart raced a mile a minute. Holy effing shit, when did her tiny girlfriend grow a pair? Then she remembered all of last October and realized how stupid that question was. Looking into Max’s eyes, Chloe knew she was being just as serious now as she was then.

“Too bad we didn’t go to Vegas instead.” Chloe kept up a fearless smile despite the fear crawling around her stomach. “I always wanted to get married in a chapel by an Elvis impersonator.”

“Chloe...”

“So romantic...”

“Chloe!” Max tugged on her girlfriend’s hand, forcing Chloe to stop walking. Their eyes met, and the rest of the crowded California beach faded away. Now there was only Max’s sweet, slightly concerned face. “I know it’s early in our relationship, but... I mean, could you ever see us someday...?”

Now it was Chloe’s turn to scoff. “Max, seriously? After all this time, after  _ everything _ we’ve been through, you still have to ask?”

When Max averted her gaze, Chloe bit down on her lip. She raised Max’s chin with one hand and caressed her cheek with the other. Max had no time to prepare before Chloe dove in for a long, gentle kiss. She barely responded with a few pecks.

Chloe pulled back with a fierce grin. “The moment they make it legal, I am carrying you to City Hall and marrying the  _ shit _ out of you.”

Max didn’t respond at first. She still wore a confused look on her face. Then her eyes lit up and her mouth spread into a slow, disbelieving smile. She laughed, and Chloe kissed her again. This time, Max returned the kiss with equal passion, sending a flutter through Chloe’s stomach, not to mention a few spots below the metal-studded belt.

“Oh my God, Chloe...” Max was breathless and laughing when they broke off and resumed their stroll across the beach. “Oh my God, we’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

“I guess we are.” Chloe slung her arm around Max’s shoulders. Her heartbeat raced in time with the tide crashing and foaming against the nearby shore. “You think that stopover with Sam and Lonnie might’ve gotten to us a little?”

“I’m positive.”

“Heh, yeah. So glad we stopped there...”


End file.
